


clockwork

by memoriam (sacredduet)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Artist Shiro, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Team as Family, i dont know how tagging works here help, more tags to be added later, this could be read as sheith is you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-19 14:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7365313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sacredduet/pseuds/memoriam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your life isn’t dictated by clockwork routines anymore (how could it be when you’re a part of a team that’s working to save the universe?), but you think you’re starting to make some order out of all this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a rough start

**Author's Note:**

> god it's been so long since i last wrote anything but, i'm in voltron hell so hey. also shoutout to kero and micho for beta reading this and helping me spot mistakes + other things that needed to be fixed!!

           Your day begins at 0500 sharp.  There’s a few reasons for that. Some of it came from old habits you cultivated at the Garrison. Class started at 0800 and ended exactly eight hours later. After that, you would spend time with your friends and then study until 2200. You’d be too tired to do anything else by then, which is why you created those three hours of free time in the morning. For those three hours, you didn’t even think about anything Garrison related. From 5 a.m. to 8 a.m. you were just Shiro, not Takashi Shirogane: a prospect for the Kerberos mission and the top student from his class. You usually spent that time watching the sunrise or sketching in your journal. It was… nice.

            You push yourself closer to the ground and then straighten your arms back up, completing your second set of push-ups. You wonder, as you begin the next set, what was your schedule like when you were a prisoner? These days, the main reason why you get up so early is because your nightmares usually wake you up by then. Maybe it’s best you don’t remember too much of your time as a prisoner. Don’t need to add more fuel to the fire.

           Sketching though, huh? You’d almost entirely forgotten you did that until you started reminiscing. Maybe you’ll pick it back up, and add it somewhere into your morning routine.

o.o.o.o

            You have breakfast with the team around 0800, and manage to get your hands on a journal and a pencil. You’ll have to remember to thank Coran for that later. The grip of the pencil feels alien in your new hand, and your first couple of sketches are sloppy and crude. You’re about to start another drawing before Coran interrupts you.

            “Shiro. I didn’t give you that journal so you could avoid eating. I tried something new today, give it a try! Look! it’s even got – “

You tune him out set down the journal and poke at… whatever it is exactly that Coran’s cooked up today. It’s not the usual green space goo but it’s. Well it’s _something_ , alright.

            “Didn’t take you to be the type to pick at your food, Shiro,” Pidge whispers, taking your attention away from the brightly colored meal and Coran’s rambling. You frown shyly, unable to protest and the green paladin laughs. “It’s okay, I think we’re all a little scared of Coran’s cooking. Well, except Hunk and Allura.” You look around the table and see Allura and Hunk chatting amicably, having already finished their food, and Keith and Lance picking at their food. You laugh a little at the sight, and resist the urge to comment on the fact that the two seem to actually be in agreement about something. Pidge snickers with you, and the two of you decide to actually eat. It wasn’t bad in retrospect, especially considering the fact that the food was neon pink and yellow.

o.o.o.o

           It’s 1300, and now that you think about it, it’s pretty strange going from the clockwork routine you had back in the Garrison (a feeling in your gut tells you that your life as a prisoner was just as scheduled) to the unpredictable, chaotic life you had here in the Castle of Lions. Your bionic arm is still hard to get used to, and the whole “you have to help save the universe” thing really just explains itself but as you trace the corner of Keith’s wry smile and rim of Pidge’s glasses in your journal in dark graphite, you decide there’s nowhere you’d rather be. (The feeling from before tells you that you don’t _have_ anywhere else to be. You ignore it.)

           You finish the outline of your friends’ heads when one of the mice decides to plant itself directly on top of your journal. You laugh and set down your pencil so you can pet it. You let your eyes wander around the room and see Keith and Lance bickering, Hunk and Pidge talking excitedly about technology, and Coran showing Allura some new recipes he’s made. The corners of your mouth quirk into a smile. Yeah, this is your life now, isn’t it? That’s… honestly okay, you think to yourself and continue petting the mouse.

o.o.o.o

            You’re honestly a little surprised about how much you’ve taken to drawing, considering you only just picked it back up today. You still lack confidence in your strokes, rendering the edges jagged and messy, but it doesn’t matter to you a whole lot. The experience of drawing is tactile and it helps ground you. You used to draw planets, galaxies, and constellations in those early mornings. You draw the lions and your friends now, and wonder how much your dreams have changed.

           The Kerberos Mission was everything you dreamed about being part of when you were a cadet. And before everything went wrong, it still was exactly everything you’d hoped for. Exploring the far reaches of the solar system with an amazing crew, learning more than the Garrison alone could ever hope to teach you, it just couldn’t get better. And then… You were on a _peaceful_ mission; why did they have to… The lead of your pencil snaps. Your vision goes foggy, and you see the sinister, unforgiving purple of that Galran ship. You hear footsteps but you’re cold, _frozen_ , icy fear settling deep under your skin and winding its way into your core. A hand rests on your shoulder and you flinch, half expecting it to push you into the arena, but it just rubs soothing circles into your back. “You’re not on the ship anymore, Shiro. You’re okay,” a soft voice reassures. You blink a few times and let out a shaky exhale. Allura?

           She continues to run her hand along your shoulders and starts talking about the flowers on Altea. Oh. You understand how she knew how to comfort you, after hearing her talk for a bit. You lean your weight against her, and belatedly remember that training starts at 1700. You get up in a hurry, that’s only ten minutes away! She tugs you back down with little effort, and frowns.

           “You’re not training today, champ. Princess’s orders. In fact…” She pauses to whisper a message into her earrings. You raise an eyebrow at her, questioningly. “Just sit.” Within a few minutes, the other four paladins enter the room and settle themselves around you. The five of you chatter idly, and the cold fear from before is replaced by a warm contentedness. You wrap your arms around your friends just a little tighter.

            You open your mouth to thank her but she interrupts you before you get the chance. “We’re your friends. There’s no need to thank us.”

           “Yeah! We’re all like family now,” Hunk chips in. You ruffle Pidge’s hair and use your free hand to hold Allura’s. Family huh?

o.o.o.o

            You end up training one on one with Keith a few hours later anyway. You duck under his punches with a practiced ease. Seems like he still has the same weaknesses from when the two of you trained together at the Garrison. “Don’t put your weight on your heels. Move it to the balls of your feet,” you reprimand gently. He frowns and lifts his heels but ends up jutting his elbows out. You circle around him and lightly nudge his elbows closer to his body. “That’s better. Alright, now come at me again.”

            He furrows his brow and throws another punch. It’s much faster this time. Good, good, you think. His speed is his most valuable asset in a fight. You block his punch by jutting out your forearm and throw out a punch yourself. He dodges it quickly that time, and see? That’s why you keep your weight off your heels.

            “You’ve been saying all this out loud you know,” he says, snickering. You’re taken by surprise, and are more than a little embarrassed. He lands a solid kick to your side while you’re still not quite on guard.

            Ow. You resume your stance and pout a little. “Point. But you really are moving faster.” You avoid another punch, and quickly move around him and pin his arms behind him. “Not fast enough though,” you say, a little cheekily.

            “Show-off,” he says without any real heat to the statement, “Is Lance rubbing off on you?” The two of you laugh, and you let him go. He readjusts his gloves and you take a quick look at the training room clock, which read 2100. Oh, it’s already that late? You decide it’s time to call it a day.

            You clap a hand on his shoulder before you leave. “Good workout today, Keith. See you in the morning.”

            He makes a noncommittal noise. “Night, Shiro.”

            You go back to your room and practically melt into your bed, thoroughly exhausted. Your life isn’t dictated by clockwork routines anymore (how could it be when you’re a part of a team that’s working to save the universe?), but you think you’re starting to make some order out of all this. You yawn, and your eyelids are growing heavy, so you let sleep take you.

o.o.o.o

                The first thing that you notice is that it’s _dark._ Not the kind of darkness that accompanies night, but an unnatural, permeating darkness that makes it more or less impossible to see anything around you.  You end up having to rely on your hearing instead to make out your surroundings and overhear a conversation between two people.

           “Yes… this one will make a fine weapon,” says a gravelly voice, tone laced with derision. You couldn’t put your fingers on _why_ , but you suddenly felt very afraid.  

           “I will begin the upgrades immediately then, sir,” comes a second voice. Wait… this conversation sounds familiar.

           “Take him away.”  The words echo around you and your bionic arm seizes in a phantom pain. You can see much clearer now and find yourself a few steps off the edge of a cliff.  You then realize that you’re _alone_ , and can’t figure out where the people who were talking are. Your arm suddenly glows purple (ominous, dangerous, but wait, was that even supposed to be there right now?) when something pushes you from behind and you topple off the precipice you were standing on. You’re falling now, plummeting into what seems like an endless, dark void. You see a light in the distance, and reach out to it frantically, hoping that you’ll grab onto something that’ll slow or at least stop your fall but it just keeps growing fainter.

           You hit the ground after what feels like an eternity and when you look around, there are bodies scattered around you. Your heart ties itself in knots and you kneel down to examine one. These are… god but why? You feel yourself growing faint. A shadowed figure approaches you, and all you can make out are gleaming, yellow eyes.

           “Don’t forget… We made you strong. This,” it gestures to the destruction around itself, “could be your fault.”

           But… you would never, not to your friends. Right? You used to feel guilty about killing _spiders_ , how could you ever… You look around again frantically, trying to see if there was a way out. The figure’s laugh resounds in your head mockingly. It disappears and you see Keith on the floor, struggling to breathe. You run to his side, and he looks at you frigid and betrayed. “Shiro… How could you?”

           You wake up in a cold sweat and run a hand through the white part of your hair. Your throat hurts, had you been screaming? You look at the picture of the team you keep in your room. It’s okay, you say to yourself willing your heartbeat back down to a slower pace. You rub blearily at your eyes and glance at the clock. It’s barely 0200. You sigh and grab a glass of water. It’s finished off quickly, and you grab your journal and pencil. Needless to say, you don’t manage to sleep for the rest of the night. It’s been a rough day.


	2. free time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [finger guns] here's chapter 2: electric boogaloo featuring more paladins and them being touchy feely. special thanks to a lot of my twitter mutuals for giving me tips and ideas for writing, and extra special shoutout to kero, aera, and micho for beta reading and keeping me going through this trainwreck. i owe you all some cake <3

            Even sleep deprivation isn’t going to stop you from doing your morning exercises. Your body protests a little, and you’ve been yawning more than you care to admit, but you power through it. You keep yourself elevated a foot from the floor by pushing your weight onto your hands and then come down to begin your first set of push ups after a minute of planking. 31…32… You stop and get up when you hear a pair of footsteps approaching you.    

            “Well, it’s too early in the morning to have the paladins test the defense system, but we can still run tests on the castle’s med-pods. Oh wait, but no one’s injured, so how could we test to see if they’re functional?”

            “Oh! I could hit myself really hard with something?”

            “Coran. Absolutely not. Besides, we need to go visit Shiro right now anyway, we can figure this out afterwards.”

            “Right you are, princess. Now if I recall, he should be training here so…Ah ha! I thought I’d find you here, Shiro,” says Coran, who had just entered the room with Allura. The two of them both have a cup of steaming liquid in their hands, though Coran has two. “Morning, Shiro! The princess and I were having a drink, and I ended up making too much. She said you’d be up by now so we thought to bring it to you.” He holds the extra cup out towards you, and you take it with a bit of hesitation.

            “Good morning, Coran, Allura,” you look at the cup and ask, “This is...?” You stare at the cup dubiously. The liquid inside is a dark brown and is steaming hot, not entirely unlike tea but is also _shimmering._ Not to mention, after having Nunvill, you’re a little wary of any Altean drink that wasn’t the one in that was served in those pouches.

            “It’s what you earthlings would call coffee, I believe,” Coran responds, chipper as ever.

            “Well, the closest thing we Alteans have to it at least. Go on, try it! I had Coran sweeten your cup,” Allura supplies helpfully.

            You take a sip, and at first the drink seems awfully bitter. Was this really _sweetened_? You don’t want to seem ungrateful though, so you take another sip and find that the bitterness gives way to an almost honey-like aftertaste. It’s nothing like the smoky taste of coffee, but by the time you’re halfway done with the glass you feel more energetic and alert.

            Allura giggles, pleased to see that you seem to be enjoying the drink. “Good, right? Coran and I always wake up around this time, so we brew a pot and drink before breakfast. You should join us sometime.”

            “It’s great. Thank you both.” You finish off your cup and pause thoughtfully. There’s no harm in shaving off a few minutes off your morning workout to spend time with Coran and Allura right? Besides, you have been wanting to get to know the Alteans better. “And, I’d love to join you two. It’ll be a nice break from exercise,” you say, smiling genuinely.

            “No need to thank us, my boy. The two of us have to run some tests on the castle’s systems so we’ll be heading off now. Don’t forget! Breakfast is 0800!” Coran takes the now empty cup out of your hands and leaves with Allura.

            You wave them goodbye, and return to your workout full force, now that you have the strength and energy to. You don’t know how but Allura and Coran always seem to know exactly what you need. You roll onto your back to begin doing sit-ups and think about ways to pay them back.

o.o.o.o

            You bump into Lance in the common room a few hours later, but he doesn’t notice you at first. Were those…headphones? How did he manage to get a pair of those out here?  He takes them off and finally realized he’s walked into you. “Huh? Oh hey, Shiro! What’s up?”

       . “Not much, honestly. Do those…” you gesture to the headphones, “even work out here?”  They don’t look like any kind you were familiar with but you might’ve missed more than you realized during that year you were gone. 

            “What, my headphones? Yeah, like a charm, man! Wanna try ‘em on? Hunk and Pidge made them.” Ah, that answers that question. The two of you move to one of the couches so that the two of you aren’t just standing around. You put on the headphones and Lance puts a song on. It’s hard to hear at first, so you turn up the volume, wondering if you’ll recognize the song. “Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and- “Oh, you recognize it, alright.

            You take the headphones off immediately. “ _LANCE_. You, you just _rickrolled_ me!” you sputter in disbelief.

            He laughs heartily and wipes a tear from his eye. “Oh man, that was great! I didn’t think it would work. Haha, that was just too good,” he says, still snickering. “Whoa, wait. _You_ know what rickrolling is?”

            You raise an eyebrow at him and shrug. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

            “Well, obviously you- I dunno, actually. I guess you didn’t seem the type?” What was that supposed to mean? He fishes some sort of portable mp3 player out of his pocket. “Anyway, do you want to actually listen to something?”

            You hum noncommittally. “Let me see what you’ve got? Did Hunk and Pidge make this too?”

            “Nah, no way. I just have this baby on me at all times. Who knows when I’ll get to update the songs on here though…” You lean over to look at his screen. The clock reads 0930. You wonder idly if that’s accurate. Oh is that? Hm, you would’ve expected him to have a different home screen.

            “Is that your family?” you ask, wanting to confirm your suspicions. Lance looks away, seemingly embarrassed.

            “M-maybe! Okay, yeah, it is. It’s uh, the only picture I have of them here with me,” he admits, voice a little quieter than usual. That’s... unexpectedly sweet of him to keep around, you think. The people you thought of as family were the people you knew back at the Garrison, and now that you think about it, you do miss being there a little. You wouldn’t be surprised if Lance was feeling homesick himself, so you give him an opportunity to talk about it.

            “Do you… miss them?” you ask hesitantly, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

            “Yeah. It’s been a little rough, actually. They’re just important to me, you know? Actually uh, one of my older sister’s was kind of a musician. I have some of her songs here, and I listen to them… When I get lonely and stuff. N-not that I get lonely often! I’m like the epitome of being not lonely. That, made more sense in my head.”

            “Haha, I didn’t even say anything yet, Lance. Mind if I listen?” He relaxes visibly and hands you one side of the headphones.

            “Yeah, sure. I’ll admit, her music’s pretty good,” he says, lips quirking into a smile. Lance, a family man, huh? The song he puts on is evocative of the “wild west”, and mixes the steady strumming of an acoustic guitar with the soulful riffing of an electric guitar. It’s not at all what you expected, and is clearly different from Lance’s usual choice in music - judging by how often he’ll sing various pop songs during battle or training. You do enjoy the song, and after it finishes, Lance turns to you excitedly.

            “Cool or _cool_ , am I right? Especially the part that’s like neow, ne ne neow, neow neow.” You try really hard not to laugh at his sound effects, but you just end up with badly stifled giggles. “Wha-hey! Why are you laughing? My sound effects were spot-on.”

            “Pfft, neow, Lance? Really?” you ask, still laughing.

            “You’re doing it wrong! You’re saying it like nya, but it’s neow! ‘Sides that’s big coming from you, Mr. Blam! Blam! Blam!”

            “Alright, alright, fine,” you concede, despite still being right about that. “That song was really good though, how long has your sister been composing?”

            “Haha, told you I was right! She’s been playing guitar for seven years, and composing for four! She’s so good isn’t she? I like listening to her music when I’m working out. These headphones actually double as speakers, so it’s nice and easy to listen to. Check this out!” He twists something on the headphones and the music starts playing much louder. You clap in exaggerated awe. “Thank you, thank you,” he says in an affected voice, bowing. The two of you burst out into laughter shortly after, and you realize how happy talking about his family, and his sister’s music, has made Lance. It was nice having this bonding experience with him. You throw an arm around him in a headlock and noogie him, laughing as he tries to fix his hair frantically. You just snort and mess it up again, and resolve to work more time to spend with your teammates like this somewhere into your already haphazard schedule.

o.o.o.o

            Unfortunately, by midday the effects of the “coffee” you had in the morning completely wore off and you’re _exhausted._ You thought you’d been doing a good job of hiding it but when you go into the kitchen and find Hunk, he stuffs a mug of what looks like warm milk into your hands. “You should probably take a nap,” he says, kindly enough but in a tone that doesn’t really leave room for argument. So this is what it feels like to be on the other end of the “Leader Voice”, as Lance dubbed it.

            “I… how did you know?” you ask, taking a deep drink from the mug. Not quite milk, but tasted like it at least.

            “Your eyes have been kinda… unfocused? It’s not like you seemed distracted or anything but they were just droopy. I guessed you didn’t get much sleep.” You don’t know what you expected from the team’s engineer but that was a sharp observation, and you feel a surge of pride for your team bubble in your chest. “Listen, Shiro,” he continues, “you’re our leader but you’re our friend too. Take care of yourself. We need you as part of Voltron, but not at the cost of your health. It’s like Allura said, we’re family, right?”

            You remember the conversation from before and a warm smile appears your face. “You’re right. We’re a team now, and I shouldn’t be so…” you struggle to find an apt word.

            “Stubborn? Self-sacrificing? N-no offense intended,” Hunk hastily replies.

            You laugh because you know it’s true, and can’t find it in yourself to be even remotely offended. “No, no you’re right. Thank you though, Hunk.” He hugs you before you leave and as you return the action, you think idly that there probably isn’t a better person to pilot the yellow lion.

o.o.o.o

            You realize exactly 63 minutes later, that taking a nap was a _mistake_. It’s the exact same dream (nightmare, but it isn’t nighttime) from last time. You pinch the bridge of your nose and pull out your journal. You draw the paladins, Allura, and Coran, all happy and smiling to try to rid your mind of the images from the bad dream. The lines of the drawing are shaky and your pencil is unstable, but you’re determined to at least finish the sketch. You look at the clock, which read 1303 at the moment. You’re not the type to swear but a muttered “ _fuck_ ” escapes your lips as you put down the pencil and rub your neck wearily. It’s too early to go train so you just grab an eraser and get back to drawing. It doesn’t really take your mind off things but it gives you something to do, which you suppose is better than nothing.

o.o.o.o

            You still show up to training at 1700, as per usual, but you’re still a little off kilter. Despite that, you only lost two of the sparring matches against your fellow paladins, and the five of you take down the gladiator in record time. And if you were a little slow to resume form in between punches and dodges, no one said a word. Well, at least not during training. You’re about to leave with the others when suddenly, Keith stops you.

            “Your form was off today,” he says, bluntly. Oh. Guess he noticed, then.

            “We all have our off days,” you say, a bit sheepishly (evasively, to be honest). “Didn’t really sleep too well, so I guess I’m tired.” It was the truth, anyway.

            “It’s more than that. You took more hits than usual, and you didn’t seem tired only during training. In fact, you’ve seemed exhausted all day. And quiet. And then there was that thing that happened yesterday…” He furrows his brow pensively, and you see him fitting the pieces together. You don’t want another teammate to worry though so you interrupt his thinking.

            “It’s nothing to worry about, really.” A lie, probably. “It’s just been weird adjusting to our new roles as paladins, you know?” It’s a flimsy excuse and you know it, so you’re not surprised when he doesn’t buy it.

            “Nothing to worry about?” he snaps, “That’s bull- ugh.” His hands ball into fists and you see him visibly reign himself in.  “I’m not going to turn this into an argument, dammit. I just… want to know what’s wrong. I’ve been talking to everyone, and I-we’re all worried about you. Even _Lance_ is.”

            You feel guilty now, hearing that everyone’s worried about you. That’s the last thing you wanted (you don’t deserve it, a voice tells you unbidden. Just look at your arm, aren’t you a liability?).

        “What happened out there, Shiro?” He’s asked you this before, back when he first rescued you. You still don’t know the answer, not entirely. You were captured from the Kerberos mission, separated from Commander Holt, had to fight in an arena for the Galra’s amusement and then… you escaped. But in between that? You have no idea, and that terrifies you just as much as the nightmares and flashbacks.

            “I don’t know… I still don’t really remember and… that’s not really what’s bothering me, not right now at least. I don’t know if anyone wants to hear what _is._ It just seems like I should be stronger than this. Than letting them get to me,” you admit, looking away.

            His voice goes quiet, uncharacteristically so, and his next words are so soft you would almost miss them. “Takashi…,” he pauses and your head snaps up from the use of your first name, “You don’t… You don’t have to hide anything from us, you know. We’re always here for you. If you need to talk, we’d listen, and not judge. You don’t have to be strong all the time.” He looks away a little embarrassed, providing comfort being an alien role for him.

            A small smile appears on your face. You’ve heard it before but it does help, hearing that from the only person here who you knew beforehand. You reach out for one of his hands and interlock your fingers with his. “Thank you,” you say, struggling a little to find proper words. There’s a lot you owed to him.  It’s not until you look at your conjoined hands that you realize exactly what to say. “Thanks, for always having my back, Keith.”

            Keith flushes at the sincerity and looks away again. “I… uh. Um. Well, I owed you one, didn’t I? Y-you’re just being sappy,” he stutters, resolutely not looking you in the eye. You don’t remember what he’s talking about until suddenly you recall helping an antsy cadet get access to the flight simulators. That was almost two, no three years ago, now. A small laugh escapes your throat from the memory.

            You let go of his hand and clap a hand onto his shoulder, instead. “Yeah. I guess we’re even now, right buddy?”

            Keith huffed, more in amusement than anything else. “Yeah, we’re even.” He turns to leave but stops just before the door. “Shiro. I’m not gonna pry, but if you need to, talk to us, okay? You’re not alone.” He leaves now, and you wonder how would you ever survive without your friends.


End file.
